


Ripened Jealousy

by rampantatrocity



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Drunkenness, F/M, Fryecest - Freeform, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Possessive Behavior, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Twincest, its worth it, oh my god they were womb-mates, victorian whores
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29182122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rampantatrocity/pseuds/rampantatrocity
Summary: A glimpse into a couple of nights with the Frye twins.Evie and Jacob harboured a strong sense of jealousy when their twin strayed a bit from them. Healthy jealousy between the two had defenestrated itself years ago, back in Crawley.The twins had always been protective of each other, but where is the line between protective and possessive? The twins practically danced on the delicate line, not quite understanding their feelings. They cope with this mystery in their own way, usually with beer.In other words— four times the Frye twins were jealous and the one they time they weren’t
Relationships: Evie Frye/Jacob Frye
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> If you are annoyed at the lack of content for one of your favourite ships, just write some yourself! Some self-indulgent Fryecest— hope someone other than me can enjoy it.

The Frye siblings had an unmatched reverence for each other; sure they infuriated the other to the core every day, but the two did love each other whether they admitted it or not. Profoundly rooted in each other, Evie and Jacob had been inseparable since the day they were born. For the longest time they only had each other: the Frye Twins against the world. 

But their intricate codependency shifted when they travelled to London— the presence of outsiders threatened the bubble Evie and Jacob contained themselves in.

Suddenly, the two had drifted apart; but even at an arm’s length away, the twins still toppled over their private jealousy constantly. It was foreign for them to have lives outside of each other, not quite sure how to navigate the complex sea of characters in the thriving city around them. Though the twins had invited others into their rapidly evolving lives (much to the discomfort of their sibling), they always returned to each other. Just as they always had.

* * *

  * The Rooks•



One particular reason that Evie detested going out drinking with Jacob and the gang is watching all the Rooks fawn over her brother. Of course she knew how important his position as the kind-yet-firm boss was to him, but listening to new recruits and gigglemugs surrounding him simply put her in an atrocious mood. 

Unsurprisingly, Jacob almost had a line of ladies in ill-fitting green blazers wanting his attention. After all, the gang was celebrating a small victory over some stray Blighters in the Strand earlier that day, so the pub was utterly packed with drunken Rooks. Amongst the sea of ratty, green uniforms, there was this one gal in particular Evie had been eyeing all evening. Each time she passed Jacob, she made an express effort to brush up against him in some manner. A light brush of the shoulder, “accidentally” bumping into his drink— the sort of tricks cheap women use to capture a customer. Evie was not fond of these types of women hanging around Jacob; not that he couldn’t handle himself, he was often blind to the complexity of feminine wiles. 

Between the small band’s songs, the object of Evie’s scrutiny took a seat next to Jacob at the chipped wooden bar. The girl forcefully giggled at whatever glib musings he offered and leaned in closer, her stained green bowler hat lying askew on her short, stringy hair. She began to whisper something into his ear, deliberately placing her hand on Jacob’s thigh. 

“What a slag,” Evie thought to herself, not minding her own vulgarity.

Getting tired of watching a rotating circus of whores adore her brother, Evie hopped up from her corner stool and took leave of the tedium around her. Barely getting out the back and into the muddy alley before a hand tapped at her shoulder. 

“Why’d you leave for?” Her twin asked as she twisted her head around.

“Oh. Jacob,” she began, surprised. She half expected him to stay in the company of those lusty bootlickers. Evie didn’t quite understand her sudden disdain for some of the Rooks, so she simply compartmentalized it away, waiting for another time to analyze her thoughts on the matter.

“It smelled horrific in there. Just coming out to get fresh air, I suppose,” she half-lied.

It didn’t take much to fool her brother. Typically, he was quite adept at sniffing out people’s fibs and empty lip service; however, Evie’s extensive history with beguiling her brother made it easy to fool him (so she thought.) She did leave for some fresh air, and it honestly did reek of stout and grease inside the pub, so Jacob didn’t question the desire to vacate the area.

They walked a few metres down the soggy back-alley to gain reprieve from the oppressive scent of their unbathed league of miscreants.

“Why’d you leave all the fun? It’s not like you to skip out on free compliments and attention,” Evie teased. 

A smile cracked across her brother’s face, causing her to grin in return. 

“Most of their talk isn’t worth much. ‘S usually just hollow words to gain my favour— a bit silly really,” Jacob said, retaining an air of mirth in his words. “It feels nice to be wanted I guess, but not a one can really handle ol’ Jacob Frye. So I let ‘em down easy.”

The playful remark was oddly soothing to Evie, it showed he didn’t reciprocate those frilly girls’ intentions. Thank god. She didn’t know if she could handle Jacob bringing home a grating cockney girl, only interested in his looks or power. 

“Well, do let me know if you find a girl. I’m interested in how she might be,” Evie posited a bit too seriously. The hazardous line seemed to just fall out of her mouth, so to lighten her words she quickly added, “if you could even find one.” Jacob snorted at the light-hearted jab. 

It’s not that Evie paid rapt attention to her brother’s amorous connections or anything, she simply had a healthy, sisterly curiosity in who her brother was interested in. Nothing more, of course. 

“You wound me,” Jacob facetiously replied. He continued playfully, “There ne’er be a lady more fine than the illustrious Evie Frye. I dare not to look.”

Although her brother was only joking as she had, the comment still excited Evie for some reason. She couldn’t quite picture Jacob really strapping himself down to one girl. In fact, it was only Evie that he really spent any time with, back at Crawley and even now, in London. It was somewhat reassuring to note her brother’s lack of romantic excursions, mostly as she was devoid of them herself. Neither twin had really ventured outside each other, they were comfortable together.

A smile lied gently on Evie’s face. She didn’t respond to Jacob’s frivolous remark, she just looked down at their boots standing next to each other in the mud. 

A bit worried, her brother spoke up, “You alright? Don’t tell me you’re bored of me already, it’s barely dusk!” 

Evie met her twin’s eyes and let her smile grow, “Of course not. You’re about as fascinating as a can of dead eels, but I suppose you can entertain me tonight.”

Jacob gently shoved her in protest as they began their short walk back to the rowdy pub. Together.

* * *

  * Nigel Bumble• 



Nigel had worked in harsh factories since he was but a lad, so the way Agnes ran him ragged on the train doing menial tasks was no big trouble for him. He was determined to claim his stake on the train and be a useful Rook, even if he had to scrub crushed coal and grit off the train floors. He had to run to the front of the train to grab his lucky brush he forgot when he was bothering the engineer. Nigel loved locomotives since he was young and being behind the steel levers of the boiler car thrilled him. Nigel tended to get wrapped up in his childish love of trains, so he often forgot things and left them lying about for Agnes to scold him for later. So Nigel began his quest to the front of the train to reclaim his brush, barreling through the train cars with not much care.

Leaping from one car to the next, Nigel slammed open the door to Evie’s study without thinking and bumped into her while she ruffled through some research on her desk. “‘Scuse me, miss Frye,” Nigel spat out as he stumbled out of the way. “Don’t mean to botha a lady like yourself,” he awkwardly huffed out. 

“Oh it’s no bother, pardon me,” Evie gracefully avoided his unmeasured movements and went back to writing in her journal about her run-in with Lucy Thorne on the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral. She paid Nigel little mind as she scribbled away, but she felt his presence behind her for a moment longer than necessary, so she turned in her chair. “Is there something I can help you with Nigel?” She asked politely, covering up the bit of annoyance that swirled in her head. 

It took him a bit to realize she had asked him a question, “O-oh no, sorry miss— I was just..” Nigel stood there simply looking at her and admiring her. He had not had the chance to be so near one of his bosses, so he hadn’t quite realized how striking she was. Sure he knew Evie Frye was a marvelous woman to gander at, but seeing her artfully placed freckles and neatly braided hair up close gave him pause. “Sorry, I was just thinking to meself how pretty ya looked in the candle light,” he innocently offered.

Evie did not expect the kid to compliment her like that, as she hadn’t heard someone remark on her appearance like that in some time. She sucked in a sudden breath and said gently, “Oh, well thank you Nigel. That’s quite kind of you.” He nodded and embarrassedly scampered to the front of the car and out the latched door. She softly giggled to herself and went back to writing in her journal.

Over the course of the next couple of days, Evie noticed that Nigel took what opportunity he could to cut through her train car and she caught him looking at her more times than was normal. It was sweet that the kid showed some interest in her, it made her feel valuable and pretty; of course she had no real intention of letting it go anywhere, he was but sixteen and she had bigger things holding her attention.

On a saturday night, after the Rooks had a harsh run in with some Blighters in the Strand, they decided to cool off and celebrate their victory at a local pub. Jacob had managed to convince Evie to take a break for the night from scrubbing through Greenie’s books and go out with him and the gang for some well deserved relaxation. She sat in the corner, gliding her finger around the circumference of her dirty mead mug, not really wanting to join in on the rowdy Rooks arm wrestling and loudly betting on card games in the pub. 

Jacob drunkenly sauntered over to her and sat with his boots up at her end of the bar. “You’re lookin’ a might lonely, dear sister. Why don’t you join in on the fun?” As if on cue there was an indistinguishable crash and ensuing raucous laughter behind him. 

“I’m afraid I might lose a limb in all the fuss. I’d rather just sit here and observe,” she muttered as she knocked his feet off the pub’s counter.

He used the momentum of his sister’s push to hop up off the stool. He snatched up his sister’s mug out of her hand and stated proudly, “You just need more to drink, dear sister. Let your generous brother refill your cup for you.”

She scoffed and theatrically leaned back onto the mysteriously moist pub wall. “My hero,” she said sardonically as he backed over to the willowy bartender.

He tapped the wooden bar and gestured for two more mugs. Nigel hustled between two drunken Rooks sloshing their beer around and sidled next to Jacob.

“Ah, Mistah Frye, I’ve been lookin’ for ya.” Nigel paused for a response, but when none came he continued, “I’ve been a bit of a meater in the past, and I get awfully poked up about women, so I need to ask you for a bit o’ help…” Nigel slurred, leaning a bit close for Jacob’s comfort.

“Come to an expert have you? I know a thing or two about the ladies.” Jacob said proudly.

“Ye. It might be a bit awkward, but I’m sozzed off my cap, so here goes: is your sister knocking anyone?”

Jacob saw Nigel looking over at Evie in the corner and it took his brain a moment to comprehend the vulgar question. He shoved the boy suddenly and shouted “You prat! Don’t be coming over to me asking those things.” Nigel immediately began to cower when he realized his mistake and the threat of his now pissed boss. “Now fuck right off, and if I catch you even _thinking_ about looking at her, I’ll kick your arse into next week.” Jacob grabbed the two mugs and indignantly stomped away back to Evie, leaving Nigel with his jaw agape and tail between his legs.

“What’s got you in a tiff?” asked Evie unknowingly, taking the mug from her brother’s gloved hand. Jacob plopped back down on the wobbly stool and put his arm on the bar behind his sister’s head.

“Nothin’. Just making sure my sister is having a good night out. Now drink up.” Jacob spat out, hiding a stream of jealousy flowing through his drunken head. He practically shoved the mug into Evie’s mouth, making sure she is drinking with him and him alone tonight.

* * *

  * **Pearl Attaway•**



“You’re fortunate I like you, Miss Attaway,” Jacob quoted as he reached for the carriage door. Pearl swiftly extended her leg between Jacob and the door, cutting him off. As he sat there puzzled, she downed another glass of champagne and tossed the ornate flute to the velvet cushion. She knocked open his knees with her leather boot and placed her heel on his crotch. “Now, now, Mr. Frye. Don’t be getting too hasty,” she muttered through her buzzing lips. Jacob shot his gaze down to his modestly growing arousal and glanced back up to Pearl’s lusty eyes. “If you dispose of Millner _and_ his precious cargo, I’ll reward you with more than a fruitful business partnership,” she said as she ground her heeled boot into him more. Jacob shuddered and leaned forward, “I’ll be sure to gut him for you, darling.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and lingered in her gaze, gave her a dashing smile and swiftly hopped out of the carriage. As he watched her undoubtedly pure-bred horses trot away, he softly patted down his mild erection. “Hmm, she sure is something.”

He systematically eliminated Millner’s crew and burned all of the ferry’s cargo, leaving Miss Attaway’s business competitor for last. He snuck up behind him with no fear and jammed his hidden blade in the back of Millner’s neck, cleanly severing his spinal cord. Jacob gently led the dead body to the ground as Millner’s words spoke in his head, “Family always stays together in the end.”

Family? Family…. The wench had made a fool of him, she was Starrick’s bloody cousin. What an atrocious affront. Jacob felt blind anger wash over him and for the first time in a long while, he felt the sharp prick of shame claw at his throat. How could he be so thick? A templar breathed orders to him and he simply followed. Did he execute her plans for the cause of freeing London of Starrick’s near monopoly on public transportation, or did he answer to Attaway for selfish reasons? She was undoubtedly an intriguing presence— but his interest in her abruptly ceased when he opened his eyes.

Jacob knew in his heart that his short-lived infatuation with Pearl Attaway was mostly in part because she reminded him of Evie— strong willed, witty, and not afraid to get a bit dirty. She had plans and a fiery personality to fuel them, he liked that about her- a woman willing to do what it takes. If only her plans weren’t entirely perpendicular to his own. Starrick’s little plaything cousin, a shame that such a woman was wasted in the Templar order. Though the moment Jacob’s blade ejected into her throat, he felt not even an inkling of remorse. Her death was necessary to break down Starrick’s grip on London, and Jacob secretly felt a bit of satisfaction cutting down someone who had deceived him. He knew a woman willing to trick him does not deserve his company. Evie never lied to him or tricked him— she was the only person he wholly and completely trusted, even if she ticked him off his rider constantly. 

As he reclined on his worn couch thinking of his brief jaunt with Pearl, he glanced over to make sure Agnes was faced the other way and scuffed some dried mud off the heel of his boot onto the train car floor. Evie glided in the car from his blind spot and said loudly, “Now Jacob, don’t be dirtying this train. You know Agnes works tirelessly to clean up after your mess.” Jacob halted forward and stared daggers into his devious sister’s grinning face. Agnes swirled around at her desk and gasped. “How dare ye do such a thing, you blithering idjit!” And as Agnes raged on, the twins looked at each other, Evie innocently smiling and Jacob sighing dramatically, covering up a creeping smile. He knew that no woman would compare to her, whether they like to blow things up or not.

* * *

  * Henry Green•



Evie squeezed her aching shoulder, rubbing the knots out after a long day of scaling buildings and whizzing through the city on her zipline. Her mind and body were weary from all that has transpired lately, her very soul yearning to just lie down for a moment. Reconciling with her brother after the two took down Starrick was quite cathartic, as she knew the rift that had grown between them was a bit petty. She struggled to pretend the separation from her brother was easy, despite the fervent denial she stewed in. Having to act as if she was fine without him, pretending to not need him— it broke her heart. She missed his poorly timed wit, his passion, and his presence. It was a pain to admit, but being without the mindless banter they so easily shared made her days quite a bore. 

For the first time in many weeks, Evie was hopeful. Starrick was gone, the Piece of Eden was secure— and she had her dear brother back. Evie was utterly exhausted.

She raced home, darting along the overcast horizon with nothing but the thought of her calm writing desk and inviting bed rocketing around in her mind, calling out for her to just relax. 

Evie hadn’t slept through the night in months, usually jolting awake with the rickety train or having her brother’s rowdy snoring from the next car pierce her ears when she is just about to roll over into slumber. And now, with the Shroud secure, a peaceful night’s sleep was finally possible. 

She opened the latch to her car and quickly shut it behind her, hoping for the solace of solitude. Before Evie could remove her heavy leather jacket and accompanying hidden weapons, she saw a simple bouquet on her desk. She picked it up and studied it, remembering what Henry had said about the meaning of certain flowers.

“A message… of hope. Perfection?” Evie rolled the stems in her fingertips as she thought aloud, “A red tulip?”

“A declaration of love.” Henry eagerly spoke behind her, as if he was waiting for her to find the bouquet. She wasn’t startled by his presence, the fellow assassin had a knack for silently entering rooms- and at this point she was used to it. His calming presence was usually welcome, so sudden appearances didn’t bother her much. 

“I— miss Frye, you know that I hold you in the highest esteem… and regard.” Henry shifted on his feet, feeling anxious. “And I was wondering if you would do me the honour of— if you would give me your hand… in matrimony?” He asked earnestly, reaching out for her hands. 

A bit taken back from the sudden question, she looked down at his larger hands holding hers, the flowers she held getting slightly crushed at his sudden force. When Evie looked back up at Henry, his expectant face broke her heart.

She knew in her heart that she had felt something for him at one point, affection, love, intellectual interest— whatever it was. Henry was everything she ostensibly wanted: a cool-headed, collected assassin with the creed at the forefront of his work, a man who valued intelligence and hard work over brash killing and smarmy jokes. She wanted to say yes to him. Marrying Henry would be a smart move, both for her future and the Brotherhood’s… but she hesitated. Why did she hesitate? 

For an entire lifetime she obediently followed her father’s teachings; an erudite man that revered calculated pragmaticism— a man who trained his children to utilize the great tenants of the Brotherhood. Ethan Frye raised the twins strictly, emphasizing the immense importance of logically dissecting their situations, carefully deducing the proper moves to inhibit any chance of mistakes or, worse— emotional interference.

In this moment, Evie noticed the distinct resemblance of her father in Henry. He was the very characterization of following the code to the letter. Profoundly holding the creed of the Brotherhood at the front of his mind at all times. Henry Green appeared to be an excellent match, as he so obviously displayed the characteristics her father tried to instill in her—

Most of Evie’s childhood consisted of her father modeling her after the “perfect assassin,” practically programming her to dissociate personal attachment and motivations from the greater work. If one was detached from the situation, they could approach complicated issues with an objective, critical eye— easily distinguishing the best course of action from the impulsive, instinctual reaction. Judiciously evaluating a situation was better than acting rashly, of course. 

Her father ceaselessly admonished her brother for acting impulsively; saying it jeopardizes missions and allows room for error; and Evie knows to this day she chastises him just like father used to.

But the problem was— Jacob’s vitriol and passion were what made his actions all the more effective. He fiercely lived by his own morals; sure he sowed chaos and did as he pleased, but his actions were always for the betterment of those around him. Saving the children of London, giving the men and women of poorer districts and rough backgrounds a purpose, a way to use their lives to help eliminate threats that circulated all through the city. He gave so many people hope— hope for a better tomorrow and a better London, without the manipulation and exploitation the Templar order tended to use. Evie judged his actions exclusively by the collateral damage, not really taking into account the good he did for the people. 

Maybe she was too harsh on him.

Maybe Jacob’s individuality is what made him such a striking man. Instead of barring up his emotions and displacing his own judgement for that of being objective and cold— he used his emotions, channeled them to fuel his hard work. The work that always did more good than bad. 

Evie knew that indescribable air Jacob brought around with him, that fierce sense of self is what made him such a good assassin. The very thing Evie shut herself off from is what might have actually aided her. The dichotomy of the two of them seemed to be a divide, but what Evie was starting to see is that instead of opposing each other they complemented the other. 

  
  


There were two courses of actions to consider in this moment: one is to implement deliberate thought and the logic that said Henry Green would make a useful partnership, their marriage a tool to use in the advocation of the Creed and its tireless work. Objectively marrying Henry is a wise move. But the other way, the one Evie pained herself to even consider: personal judgement. Did she actually feel an attraction to the man? Was there a reason beyond his resemblance to her father and his teachings that intrigued her? 

After securing the shroud, they had shared a kiss. A kiss, that at the time, made sense— but it was but a mere touch of the lips. Evie had no raw emotion behind it, and it surprised her that it lacked vibrancy. She felt nothing from the kiss— not the enticing nature a kiss ought to possess nor did it give her any satisfaction. It lacked intimacy- something she should want with Henry. If such essential things were lacking, how could she embolden herself to fully embrace Henry Green as a partner just for logic’s sake?

Perhaps, she thought, it might be that she should trust her own judgement on this matter instead of a man who’s very ideas drove him to bitterness and despair. Perhaps she should listen to her own feelings for a change.

“I—“ Evie started, avoiding his gaze. He let out a shaky breath as she looked at their hands. “I want to…” Before she let him answer, she quietly said, “But I can’t.” 

His hands fell a bit, still holding hers; and she looked back up at him. Henry’s face had a look of confusion and loss, he was genuinely perplexed. “I thought that—“

“I know,” She interrupted, not wanting to hear the pain in his voice. “I just... can’t,” her whisper almost inaudible. He let go of her hands and the flowers dropped to the floor of the car. “Henry, I—“ 

He straightened his posture and removed any semblance of emotion from his face, just as her father taught her to do, “Pardon me for the unsavoury question. Good evening Miss Frye.” He stated formally, injecting a sudden coldness to the situation. Without hesitation, he swiftly turned and gracefully lurched for the exit.

“Henry— wait!” She started after him but he abruptly stopped at the car door and repeated coldly—

“ **Good evening.** ”

She was left alone in her train car, staring at the closed door with flowers at her feet. Her heart ached in rhythm with her shoulder, her head spinning from the dense moment that had so quickly unfolded.

Without a word she sat down at her desk, the herbarium Henry gifted to her staring from the shelf. She suddenly grabbed it and instinctively threw it as hard as she could. Evie let out a frustrated cry, tensing every muscle in her body. 

To herself, in her quiet train car with nothing but the rhythmic grinding of iron beneath her, she sincerely questioned, “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

  
  


As if she had just made the biggest mistake in her life, her body wanted to sob. Her hands quickly shot up to her face and scrubbed it once over and then firmly planted her palms at her temples, rubbing deep and hard. She rejected the oncoming tears, forcing out a dry croak in its wake. 

Did she just lose the possibility of a secure and thriving future simply on a brief lapse of self? Did she act too rashly, having emotional instinct take over instead of the calculating nature she desperately clinged to? 

As Evie sat at her desk, trying to reign in her tears, a piercing lightning strike lit up her carriage, a loud rumbling quickly following. She raised her head from her hands and looked over at the door’s window, inadvertently thinking of Jacob.

“Hope he makes it back safe,” her brain said without permission.

Such a simple thought, but its mere presence out of nowhere confounded Evie. Why in such a moment of personal disarray, such an epiphanic juncture- did she think of Jacob?

The rain couldn't even begin stop her brother just as a stray Blighter couldn’t. He was more than capable of withstanding some light precipitation. What a silly thought. 

Dizzy with existential thought and the apparent catastrophe that occurred not minutes ago, Evie felt like a stranger in her own head. She couldn’t comprehend these happenings as swiftly as she thought, so she took to the fountain pen lying dried out on her desk. What Evie lacks in emotional intelligence, she made up for in her cerebral nature, so she grabbed some stained paper out of a drawer with a sigh. Writing her way out of her own mind, Evie sat there for the rest of the night— transcribing every word that bounced around inside. If her brain wouldn’t cooperate, then maybe her pen would help her navigate her cloudy mind. 

______________________

When Jacob finished folding up the freshly bloody Shroud, his attention was stolen by his sister kneeling over Greenie. Henry had come at a quite opportune moment, he must say— him and Evie were in a bit of a predicament before he arrived, what with Starrick’s overpowered hands around their throats. But when he saw the two of them fall into a kiss his heart dropped to his stomach, almost causing him to drop the Piece of Eden. Somewhere inside of him something roared in displeasure.

Currently, Jacob sat with his boots up on a bar somewhere, balancing on the two back legs of his rickety chair. He had already downed about six mugs of the house ale and had already gestured for another. 

The thrill of finally killing Starrick was shadowed by what he witnessed in the underground vault. He should feel proud, gutting the most dangerous man in London— ridding the world of yet another principle Templar; but instead he just felt numb. Hell, he felt more satisfaction slamming his blade into Pearl Attaway than he did killing the man he’s been chasing for months. 

He was too bogged down to focus on the utter freedom he just presented the city with. Not being able to think straight or revel in his victory like he usually would made Jacob feel strange. A grimy feeling swept over his tired body; not so much signaling that he needed a bath (though he should probably take one soon) but more a general unsettling feeling.

What is a man to do? Obviously, it’s drink. A lot.

So drink a lot he did. And it just so happened that he’s pretty good at it. 

He dropped his wobbly chair back down on its front legs, the wood creaking in relief. Without a single thought or breath, Jacob grabbed the mug the bartender slid over to him and gulped it down. He was chasing that fuzzy feeling, the feeling that could alleviate him of the churning thoughts in his head— hey, he’d rather be numb and unthinking than trapped in a loop of disgust in his head.

Jacob couldn’t stop seeing it in his mind. _That Man_ kissing his sister, holding her close to his body and pressing into her. It made the knot in his chest gurgle. Was that their first kiss? Had they been hiding from Jacob? Did Evie love him?

Well, fuck. He knew that Greenie had a strong affection for Evie, afterall— she was quite captivating (even when she was yelling). 

He knew that Evie had a soft spot growing for the seemingly timid man.

He knew there was something between them.

He knew.

So why did it bother him so much? It seemed to purposefully and pointedly irk him.

Greenie had always been a bit dull for Jacob. A man lacking intrigue, a man who kept his nose in his books instead of putting his boots on the field. Needless to say, not quite the company Jacob liked to keep.

It wasn’t that Jacob inherently _disliked_ the man, he was just sort of… there. An afterthought. Of course he was helpful and provided the twins with contacts across the vast city, but he didn’t seem to put much forth in the efforts in taking Starrick down. So Jacob mostly worked around him, not really paying much attention to the man. That was, until he noticed Evie’s effect on him. 

The sour beer made his throat tickle. He didn’t enjoy the taste, not really. But it was simply a means to an end, an end he was quickly approaching. When the stray Rooks that were padding the bar’s walls filtered out a few at a time, it suggested Jacob take his leave as well. It was late and his body ached. Hell, he just defeated the city’s overlord— he deserved some rest. 

Jacob popped his top hat out and bonked it on his head. With a final nod to the tired looking bartender, he stepped out into the cold night. Feeling the rain plop down on the leather of his jacket, the assassin looked up at the dark clouds blocking the moon’s light. Of fucking course he had to walk back to the train in the bloody rain.

Usually Jacob loved being out in the city at night— a perpetual cool breeze, flickering lanterns, and you couldn’t walk far without hearing the loud pubs on the street corners, the sound of buzzing life. He loved to zip around, careening from rooftop to rooftop, taking dangerous leaps and diving without fear. But tonight, his trek back to the train was troubled. He couldn’t enjoy the night air or the pretty views of the city; he could only think of one thing. That fucking kiss. 

It replayed over and over and over in his mind. His sister leaning in. Greenie’s hand holding her face. It just made him feel sick. 

He halted his roof hopping and stood on a steel sign for some book lender hanging off the building. He retched a little. Okay maybe it as the copious amounts of bad alcohol that is making him feel sick. Choking back a sudden burst of bile in his throat, Jacob bent over the edge of the building. He tried to take a deep breath, clear his passages of the impending vomit.

Turns out huffing in the stench of horse shit and unwashed bodies that was so graciously omnipresent in London doesn’t do much to prevent chucking all your stomach’s contents onto the street below. 

With a wipe of his mouth, Jacob peered over the edge when he heard a disgusted yelp of a woman below. Her hooped skirt and coiffed hair sported a fresh coat of Jacob Juice. 

“Oops.” 

He swallowed against his better judgement and jumped to the next roof, fleeing the scene. His body and mind just felt like shit, but throwing up some of that nasty ale made him feel a bit less like shit. Jacob wanted nothing more in this instance than to be dead asleep on his uncomfortable couch in the train, not thinking and not feeling.

When Jacob finally got back to the fucking train, he scooped the cup that was on Agnes’ desk up and swished around the contents in his mouth to get rid of the vomit taste. The water was dirty and tasted like the tin cup, but it was better than the sour remnants of the night’s poor choices lingering on his tongue.

He plopped his aching body down on the chaise lounge and huffed out in relief. Without really looking, he saw a streak of white peeking out from behind the open train door, between his carriage and his sister’s. It took him but half a second to realize it was in fact Henry Green, in his Indian Brotherhood garb as usual. 

It seemed as if he was… hiding? What in the bloody hell is that man doing looking into his sister’s train car?

Instead of immediately hopping up and grabbing him like he wanted to— his body thoroughly detested the notion of getting up— he opted to just observe the suspicious behaviour. There were a few small movements that he made, mostly to avoid rain coming into the car and to balance himself as the train squealed into a curve. But after a few moments, the man stood up and slowly backed away. He twirled around and immediately caught sight of Jacob watching his every move. 

Eyes widening, Henry said, “Ah, Mister Frye… I was not aware you had returned.”

Wth not an ounce of hesitation Jacob questioned, “What were you doing?”

A pause. A lightly forced chuckle. “I was just,” he swallowed, “checking in on your sister. She seemed to be in a poor state earlier so I was simply… looking after her.”

“Mhmm.” Jacob voiced with a disbelieving and slightly angered tone. 

Neither wanted to engage in further conversation, and both absolutely detested the situation they found themselves in— there came a terrible bout of silence. 

With a quick breath, Henry broke the tense pause, “Well, I am off to rest... Starrick knocked me around quite a bit. You should rest as well, Jacob. Good night.” 

Jacob pointedly did not say a thing, only glowered at him with narrowed eyes. With not another word, Henry scampered off, presumably hopping off the train entirely, what with his incredible tension with _both_ of the Frye twins tonight.

Seeing Greenie’s face and watching his mouth form awkward words **right after** him being caught spying on Evie made the blood fizzle in Jacob’s veins. That damned scene started again. _Lean in. Kiss. A gentle caress._

Shit.

Jacob knew that he didn’t have the right to get this worked up over such a simple thing. It was to be expected that Evie would one day find someone to spend her life with. For Evie, a woman with innumerable gifts to bestow upon the plebeians of this dirty, insufferable world; a woman who _any man_ would be lucky to even set eyes upon— to find someone to fall in love with. She deserved someone that could give her the world, to match her passion and complement her intellectual dynamics.

Jacob felt a tinge of possessiveness over Evie. He always had.

When they had no one else, the twins could always find solace in one another. Since birth they had been intertwined so deeply, so ingrained in the other that the thought of living without each other was unthinkable. They trained together, sparred together, researched together, learned together. Jacob couldn't imagine an instance in his childhood that he didn’t have Evie to share it with. 

Together they had burrowed through all the shit and pain the world threw at them. 

So even the mere thought of Evie sharing her life with someone else made his core surge with a boiling heat. 

He knew he had no right to feel this way. To want Evie to only share her experiences with him. To want Evie to share her life with only him. After all they were twins— connected since before birth, why shouldn’t they be connected in life?

Jacob leaned back, keeping an eye on the train car’s door. He decided there and then that if he saw Green come back to Evie’s room that night— he’d kill him where he stood.


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob catches Henry doing something unsavoury— and it reminds him of himself.   
> A jaunt into Jacob’s past sins and a most definite platonic, family love; completely not implied incest and absolutely not a brother deeply in love with his sister. Nope not here....

It took approximately nine and a half minutes for curiosity to get the better of Jacob Frye. Seeing the meekly shrewd man glancing into his sister’s train carriage did rather fill him with pounding irritation. 

Why was he watching Evie? How long was he spying on her? What was she doing that so strongly held Henry’s attention?

Of course, all the worst reasons swirled in his mind— was Greenie a secretly debauched man with a perversion towards watching women when they weren’t looking? Had he been watching Evie in her most private, intimate moments? 

The thought bristled the hairs on Jacob’s neck. No one had the right to look at his sister like that. It was fucking sick.

A bit of concern flashed into Jacob’s line of thinking. Why was this pissing him off to this extent?—— A horrid memory began to bubble up from the recesses of his rocky mind. An awful memory that Jacob tried desperately to destroy for years. 

~

Growing up in the Frye household, the twins constantly had harsh expectations thrust upon them. Ethan Frye raised his children under a strict hand, training them to become members of the Brotherhood. Much of what his father taught, Jacob didn’t agree with nor really cared about; ultimately resulting in a harsh rift between them. Since Jacob and Evie never knew their mother and they lived under a detached father, they were left with no one but each other to hold. 

The twins never attended a typical academy, nor had appropriate schooling for their age. Even if they could, Evie would not be admitted to any institute anyway (which was ridiculous of course; she could easily outsmart any professor at Oxford)— So much of their education was a result of their own efforts. Due to the lack of camaraderie amongst other children, or even the availability of meeting other kids their age— Evie and Jacob were really left to teach themselves. When the Frye siblings reached adolescence and their bodies began to physically change, it was wildly interesting to explore themselves. Evie was taught modesty at a young age, so much of her preliminary pubescent changes were kept a secret from her brother; and that absolutely did not help Jacob’s rabid curiosity. The sudden boundaries set by Evie and her father puzzled him, so he decided to teach himself as usual.

One night, after Evie had quickly bested him in a sparring match, they took turns bathing in the dented copper tub upstairs. Jacob, pissed that he lost  _ again _ to his sister for the third time that week, decided he deserved first go— Evie always took an incredibly long time in the bathroom anyway. After half-hearted scrubbing and rinsing with the freezing water from the well out back, Jacob stomped off into their shared room. Once he realized he forgot his comb, Evie was well into her bathing ritual leaving the thick wooden door locked behind her. He raised his fist to knock, but for some reason he stopped himself. They had stopped bathing together years ago, and Evie had become increasingly private with her grooming practices so Jacob felt strange invading her solitude. His fist dropped, but a spike of curiosity overcame him. What in the bloody hell did she have going on in there for hours at a time? The small tiled room had nothing much inside, so what on earth did she do?

Before thinking, Jacob dropped to his knees and glanced through the door’s keyhole. He didn’t see much: there was the counter, the poorly-crocheted rug, and  _ hey! his comb _ ! He scanned the rest of the room and saw Evie leaning against the copper tub, humming a simple song. Her milky skin beveled and curved, far different than the emerging angles that were forming on his body. It took Jacob a second to truly comprehend what he was observing. His sister was gently brushing her long hair, the dark strands contrasting with her light skin. She reclined, allowing the warm summer breeze to weave through the window and into the room to dry her freshly bathed body. The impeccable posture and effortless grace he knew his sister to possess were invitingly displayed before him, an exhibition of Evie in her purest state. 

Jacob’s heart thrummed deep in his chest, the last time he saw Evie without any garments, back when they splashed each other in the creek many years past, she definitely did not look like this. Soft breasts had begun developing, complementing her slim waist and rounding hips. It wasn’t the first time Jacob had seen a woman in such a vulnerable, scantily-clad state— there happened to be whores on almost every corner in Crawley’s deeper districts, but Evie form was strikingly different. Perhaps more elegant, or rather she just had some sweet quality of virtue.

As Evie finished braiding her hair and pinning it up again, Jacob came to the realization he had been watching her the whole time, admiring— no, just looking at her body out of curiosity. It was strangely surreal to see his sister growing up; she was always quite mature for her age, but to see Evie like this… so vibrantly youthful, was strange. He watched her slip on her light summer chemise and a linen nightgown before realizing he should probably stop looking through the keyhole. As she headed towards the closed door, Jacob was suddenly alarmed. He leapt to his feet and ran down the corridor before he could be caught. Needless to say, that night they exchanged few words before they slept, and almost none the next day.

Even in his 21st year, verging on the next— Jacob experienced incredible guilt about that incident. He had spent a few years incredibly furious at himself for betraying Evie that way, but that fury was overcome with fierce dissociation; he tried so desperately to forget. Jacob hated himself for watching his twin like that. He despised the fact he returned a few nights after to look through the keyhole again. He utterly abhorred the filthy thoughts that crowded his brain when he spied on his sister. Incredible shame loomed over his entire being at any juncture he even thought about his terrible habit. He was nothing but a dirty voyeur. 

Perhaps that is why when he caught Greenie looking at his sister, it rekindled that rage he harboured all those years ago. Fuck the cretin who took advantage of Evie like that,  _ his _ sister.  _ His _ twin. The hypocrisy was not lost on Jacob, in fact it was probably the catalyst of the immense ire surrounding the whole situation. Did Henry see anything? Was Henry watching her undress? What sick man.

Not wasting another second, Jacob leapt up off the couch and bounded over to the next train car in exactly three steps. The continuous rain dissected the intermediary platform between the two cars, and without much thinking, mostly due to impatience and not wanting to soak up the dirty water flinging off the roof of the train, he hastily opened her door and flew inside.

Evie was simply sitting at her desk, detangling her hair when Jacob barreled in. She whipped her head around when the door slammed open, prepared to defend herself; but she relaxed back into her chair when she realized it was but her bothersome twin. 

“What are you doing, mafficking about?” She asked a bit deadpan, turning back to her desk— she still was not quite in a mood for socializing.

Jacob stood there, dripping from the rain and breathing harshly. 

“Uh…” he managed to sound out. He couldn’t find any words to articulate his thoughts. Should he tell her what he caught Henry doing? No. They just reconciled with each other—he didn’t want to fall out of his sister’s good graces  _ again _ … 

“Uhm— I… I saw,” Jacob stumbled over himself, brain burnt and tongue missing.

He absentmindedly pointed back out the door, vaguely gesturing to Henry— his mind still not deciding whether or not to tell her.

Rising from her chair and tossing her half-done hair behind her shoulders, Evie walked over to her frazzled twin.

“What on earth is wrong, Jacob?” Genuine concern emerged in her voice. She reached up a bare hand to his arm, offering some measure of reassurance to her apparently distraught brother.

A striking flash of embarrassment turned Jacob’s cheeks red. She wasn’t in danger, she wasn’t indecent. She was just spending her well deserved rest time taking care of herself. 

Then why was that bastard peeking in her window?

“A-are you alright?” He began, flustered, “I just saw…”

A tad exasperated her brother kept trailing off, she huffed out, “What Jacob? What did you see?”

“Henry,” Jacob managed to say, “Henry was watching you… through the window. He was—” before he could finish Evie let out an indignant noise.

“ _ Excuse me? _ What do you mean he was  _ watching _ me?” a glint of anger flared in her. The man had the audacity to suddenly propose an eternal marriage and when politely denied he resorted to fucking spying on her? What a prick! 

“He was just staring through your window.. I-I don’t know. I made the buzzy bastard sod right off, but I’m not sure how long he was there,” He tried to explain, noticing his sister’s growing anger. 

“Oh that pigeon-livered sonnuva b-“ she stopped herself from cursing and let out a frustrated cry through her teeth instead. “I’ve had enough of his tedious shenanigans tonight. I’m going to…” she growled instead of finishing her declaration of disgust.

It was somewhat of a relief to see Evie react this explosively to the crime just as Jacob had, but gave him pause as well. As he watched his sister start to rant about her privacy being broken, Jacob could only think of how appalled she would be if she knew what he had done many years ago. He sucked his mouth into a tight line and took a step back from her. 

Evie took notice of her brother’s sudden detachment and ceased her tirade. “Thank you for telling me Jacob,” she said calmly, a striking departure from her impassioned speech just a moment ago. Without so much as a moment of hesitation she grabbed his arm again and pulled him into an embrace. “I couldn’t possibly begin to explain the complete  _ shite _ my evening has been,” she muttered into his chest, resting her arms around his waist.

The abrupt hug caught Jacob off his guard. His sister was holding him tightly to her body so he tentatively placed his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in, lying his head against hers. “I’ve truly missed you, Evie,” the words flowed freely from his soul, causing her to squeeze his body closer. The bittersweet moment had Jacob’s somber smile falter, all he wanted was to protect Evie— but how can he protect her when he was one of the moral offenders he so swore to reject? 

The two parted slightly, still holding each other. Jacob sincerely asked, “Do you want to talk about what happened? You seem to be in a bit of a tizzy. What happened between you two?” Fearing he sounded too invasive, he attempted to inject some humour, “Lover’s spat?” Probably the wrong move in retrospect, he thought as Evie’s signature look of displeasure painted her face.

“Sorry.”

Brushing the distasteful remark off with a light scoff, Evie let go of her brother. She gestured to the bed.

“Come. Sit. We haven’t had a nice chat in ages and I need to calm down,” she invited him to sit with her.

Evie had already mostly divested herself of her assassin garb before her nightly routine was interrupted—she still had her modest chemise and buttoned slacks on, her hair was down and all leather accoutrements were already folded neatly in her armchair. She sat and rested her back against the slatted carriage wall as Jacob removed his wet leather coat. He obediently sat beside her, a bit wary of the sudden proximity. Evie gently rested her head on his shoulder and pulled her knees up, just like they used to lay at night together as kids. It was a comfortable memory for them, a safe and calm intimate moment. Jacob couldn’t help but relish in her warmth, seeing her at ease in such a vulnerable state with him was the ultimate compliment from miss shut-in Evie Frye.

Evie picked at the loose threads fraying off Jacob’s slacks, most logically a result from his street scrapes and frequent violent run-ins. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight, savouring the touch of another person. They became quite lonely during their petty departure from each other, so being able to hold each other again seemingly remedied all their trivial problems for the moment. Instead of bringing up Henry again, Jacob broached another thought: “You did a marvelous job of finding that damned Shroud. I know it might not seem like it, but I am proud of you.”

She snickered lightly, “You were the one who brought Starrick down. All I did was dawdle in my research. I could barely manage to kill that Thorne bitch.”

Jacob chuckled at that. The lady was truly a bitch. 

“Who knew that the Frye twins would conquer London?” he mused, admiring the hard work he and his sister had done across the huge, daunting city. The pride they shared made her smile.

The twins chatted about nothing in particular for a few moments, deliberately skirting around the pressing, harsh topics. Evie absolutely  _ did not _ want to think of Henry for the rest of the night, she just wanted to treasure this rare moment where she didn’t want to strangle her brother. Momentarily content, she nestled into him, reveling in the innocent conversation that was so rare in their lives.

Conversation naturally fell off, and eventually Jacob listened to the soft, rhythmic breathing that indicated Evie had fallen asleep on his shoulder. With a small smile lounging his lips, Jacob tiredly thought to himself that they were going to be alright. The past is far gone— all that he should focus on is whatever fucking disaster tomorrow will bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will most definitely get a bit raunchy.
> 
> Ew gross the twins are gonna fuck??? 
> 
> You fucken bet your ass they are and it will be just as awkward as you think


End file.
